


By Any Means

by Skye_Fury



Category: Block B, Block B Bastarz
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Dominant Masochism, Drugs, Guns, Knife Kink, Knives, M/M, Masochism, Prostitution, Sadism, bastarz are detectives, carving, everyone else has issues, g-dragon is there, kyung's a murderer, they all have issues scratch that, walking in a kinky wonderland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_Fury/pseuds/Skye_Fury
Summary: a story of which the bastarz are detectives and the rest are a high profile gang that run the town with the promise of drugs and lust.





	1. A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my friend Mai for helping me release this fic! She's a great beta (she's mine, fight me for her) and a lovely person!!
> 
> Chapter inspired by: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJkj3DgW8Y0
> 
> Thank you! Enjoy!

_ Beware, Beware, be skeptical  _

_ Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold _

_ Deceit so natural  _

_ But a wolf in sheep’s clothing is more than a warning  _

 

   Three detectives crept through the bar full of people stuck in their high and drunk off the heaviest alcohol they could afford. They tried their best to blend in and assimilate to the crowd by ordering drinks and holding on to intricately detailed candy cigarettes (it’s not like anyone knew the difference anyway).

 

   What were they after though?...

 

   “Is that him, Kwon?” A deep voice rumbled through the loud roars of the club.

 

   Shifting eyes and the licking of lips aided the nod of a head and a quick flash of the eyes to another dark haired member, “B-Bomb, move in.” 

 

   “Roger, P.O,” A whisper came through a little call radio attached to the ear of the deep voiced of the three. 

 

   The two detectives who sat at the bar pretending to hold light conversation with one another watched as their other squad member moved into a large, round booth table. The dark haired male rubbed his thumbs together; he looked up and another man slid into the booth right next to him. 

 

   This man had tan skin like the sun had personally chosen him for the perfect color, an eye of blue that could lure the strongest willed person to meet his gaze and an eye of brown that made him seem friendly, both were very soft shapes that were made to look even softer with the eyeliner he dawned; he was certainly a charmer. His hair, a faux light blonde that showed his black roots, was gelled back and looked fine to the touch and his lips, plump and soft, appeared to be the perfect place to plant a kiss.

 

   “And what is a pretty picture like you doing in this dirty little place?” The man asked.

 

   B-Bomb looked up in the most innocent way he could muster as to fit into the role he was told to play, “Are you Zico?” He asked shyly and yet loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd and the dance music booming from the speakers. 

 

   “That I am,” Zico said with a grin gliding across his features to reveal his meticulously white teeth that sat in two perfect rows, “And you are?”

 

   He wanted to answer simply and he knew that giving this man any bit of his real name could really put him in danger. B-Bomb looked around and answered: “Lee.” 

 

   Zico lifted an eyebrow and looked at B-Bomb with that extraordinary pair of eyes, “I only get a last name, baby boy?”

 

   The dark haired detective inwardly cringed at the nickname Zico dropped, but in the best interest of his case he continued on. 

 

   B-Bomb pressed his body into Zico’s and bit his lip, letting his brown eyes caress the other’s body, “Someone told me.. you have B?”

 

   A darker air seemed to form around the two of them and Zico pushed B-Bomb off of him to reach into the pocket of the fur coat he adorned. A glossy, navy blue box was in his hands now with a crest adorning the very top of it: a large, silver B. His long, thick fingers slid over said crest and then suddenly the same fingers had B-Bomb’s chin in their grip. 

 

   “What will you do for this, detective?” Zico hissed with a grin as he tightened his hold on the other male’s chin.

 

   B-Bomb pulled back quickly and furrowed his dark eyebrows, “Detective?” His job was to play his part and that’s what he was going to do, “What detective?” He asked again, turning his head about as if mimicking a camera on a swivel. 

 

   Zico’s grin fell and he grabbed B-Bomb’s throat, frightening the other, “Listen here. I know who you are, Detective Lee Minhyuk, and I know you’ve been pursuing me. I’m not as much of an idiot as you may have assumed I would be, sweet heart.”

 

   A red headed male stepped out of a shadow coated corner and stood directly behind Zico. His lips, thin and chapped in appearance, were stretched into a thin line. The man’s eyes were dark and held this anger about them and Minhyuk couldn’t depict whether or not that emotion was real. The skin of this figure wasn’t nearly as warm a perfect as Zico’s but it was still tan nonetheless and the detective appreciated that maybe a little more than he needed to.

 

   “Kyung, I’m going to leave Detective Minhyuk to you now. Take him to the car and have Jaehyo decide on a ransom price,” Zico ordered with a wave of his hand while putting the beautiful box of drugs back in his pocket.

 

   The man now identified as Kyung nodded and began making his way to the other side of the booth. Minhyuk was reaching for his gun in that same time frame, but before he could even establish a grip on his gun someone had him in a basket hold and the redhead had his gun. 

 

   “God damn, baby. You aren’t much for keeping it under the radar, huh?” The blonde chuckled and took a swig of a beer another man had brought for him, “Thank you for grabbing him before he shot me, Taeil.”

 

   Taeil wasn’t much bigger than Minhyuk, in fact he was significantly smaller than everyone around him and the only reason the detective could tell was because he felt the breath of the other man on his neck. He was strong though, strong enough to hold a trained officer down like that.

 

   “God dammit…” Minhyuk growled, eyes staring angrily at Zico who had opened that gorgeous little box. He pulled out a container full of a blue liquid and smiled at the restrained detective. The liquid inside swished about, taunting and threatening him, “What are you doing?” 

 

   Zico opened his mouth and poured the container’s contents inside thirstily, eyes looking at the detective with a taunting air. He slid closer and, with Minhyuk’s chin in his grip again, pressed his lips firmly against the other’s. The liquid pushed past his lips and he forced his tongue into the dark haired man’s mouth. 

 

   It felt like hot fire on Minhyuk’s tongue, but at the same time sweet. He could feel his body giving and his eyes closing as he melted into the pretty, tan drug dealer whose soft lips were pressing into his own. The molten sweetness, this drug called B, trickled down his throat and acted quickly, turning the young detective into a shivering, needy mess. 

 

   “B-Bomb? Come in! What’s going on?” P.O’s voice called through the little speaker that resided within Minhyuk’s ear. 

 

   “Ohhhh, what’s this Minhyukkie? Do we have little friends here?” Zico laughed and he painfully yanked the device out of his ear, “Hello?”

 

   “Ah! B-Bomb, what’s the situation?” P.O asked frantically; if you listened closely you could hear glass of the beer bottle the deep voiced detective once held shatter and a “God dammit, Jihoon” over the loud roar within the nightclub.

 

   “Oh, are you one of Minhyukkie’s friends? Weeeell… he’s a little held up right now, you know? Being a big bad detective and all! Now he’s taking a fun little trip with that pretty little drug you’re all looking for,” Zico taunted, “How about you come and approach me instead of cowering like defenseless animals.”

 

   Zico looked down a Minhyuk with a grin and said male smiled back. Then there were a couple gunshots and the drug dealer’s grin fell like a brick wall, “Oh. They’re getting violent. Kyung, take him and go.” 

 

   Kyung nodded and grabbed Minhyuk by the wrist as soon as Taeil released him, dragging the drugged man toward a pair of double doors. Outside those doors was a sleek, black cadillac escalade that emitted an air of either pride or evil.

 

   The passenger door opened and out stepped a man, shirtless and dawned with jewelry, a leather coat, tight black pants, and the nicest pair of black dress shoes you’ve ever seen. His jaw and eyes were sharp; his hair swept over his face and was pulled back into a ponytail. Needless to say, he looked like more of a drug dealer than Zico did considering the man inside the club had extremely soft features.

 

   “Who’s this, Kyung?” The man asked with a smooth voice. 

 

   Minhyuk was looking around and smiled at Jaehyo who did little to return the action, “He’s Jiho’s new friend until a ransom is paid. He sends him to you to discern how much he’s worth.” Kyung replied. 

 

   “Pony-tail man has a nice jaw,” Minhyuk grumbled. 

 

   “Dear lord, is he drugged?” Jaehyo asked with a hint of disgust in his voice’s tone. 

 

   “Yeah, bossman loaded him up pretty heavy with B. A whole container,” Kyung gave the drugged detective a once over, “He’s pretty damn fucked up. I think he’s a lightweight drinker too just by seeing how fast B screwed him up.”

 

   “Alright, whatever. Put him in the back and I’ll get to work.” Jaehyo ordered and Kyung only did as he was told. 

 

_ Bah-bah-black sheep, have you any soul? _

_ No sir, by the way, what the hell are morals? _

 

   Everyone is fleeing; it’s mass panic. 

 

   Gunshots resounded in the once party filled nightclub and in the midst of it all stood Woo Jiho, also known as Zico. His power in this part of town was unthinkable and he nearly had every drug addict to his beck and call, but… He knew what it was he wanted. He has enough riches and plenty of fame, but Jiho wanted power; he wanted to rule. The only thing standing in his was was the special detective unit that many people called the Bastarz. 

 

   His eyes were also set on capturing a certain asset directly from said unit and he thought one of the perfect ways to ensnare his prey was to capture one of the detective unit’s  _ other _ men. His plan only really worked out in a less violent manner because they were stupid enough to throw one of their members into his arms! What a laugh! 

 

   “Hands up.”

 

    Jiho, momentarily distracted by his thoughts, was now held at gunpoint. A silver handgun was pushed against his temple by a firm hand, “If you move, you will be shot. You are under arrest for the manufacturing and possession of an illegal substance.” 

 

   Peripheral vision showed that whoever was holding the nose of a gun to Jiho’s  head was exactly the man he was looking for; the perfect description of what was requested. The only present issue was that this man could shoot him dead in literally an instant and, goodness, he didn’t want that.

 

   “Now, now Detective,” Jiho cooed while his hands slowly slid up, “You don’t wanna shoot me with all of these people watching, do you?” His eyes motioned to onlookers with their faces pressed on the glass window from outside the little club. 

 

   He could hear the officer’s hand tense and then, if he listened closer and focused solely on his situation, the slight rattling of the gun. With that, Jiho’s grin couldn’t be any bigger than it was in that moment. Why? Well, he’d found a weakness. 

 

   “Are you scared, Detective?”    
  
   “Shut the fuck up.” The officer snapped back, pressing the firearm into Jiho’s head with a little more pressure behind it that he meant to apply.

 

   “Woah! Getting a little feisty, aren’t we?” Jiho joked, “That’s good. That’s really good. Our man likes that.” 

 

   “Excuse me?” The detective hissed. 

 

   “Oops! Too slow!” Jiho laughed. 

 

   Before the armed male could even respond, Taeil had him in a headlock and Kyung had his gun. The redheaded male grinned and licked the gun slowly before the eyes of the struggling male while Jiho laughed. All of this was a game to them; a game of power that only the strong could survive and they were indeed strong. 

 

   “What a fun game this is Yukwon,” Jiho chuckled, “It’s like watching a mouse try and catch a cat!”

 

   To his right, Yukwon saw Jihoon get kicked in the head and knocked to the floor. Then, his hair was pulled and all of that force made him look up at the dual-colored eyes of the playful drug dealer, “Sleep well!” Jiho yelled. 

 

   Discomfort radiated from Yukwon’s neck to the rest of him and just before his body gave out; just before his eyes fell shut he saw Jiho and Kyung laugh at him; he heard one of them say, “Catch us next time, love!”

 

***

 

   Yukwon’s eyes shot open and he sat up as fast as he could, but upon immediately regretting his decision due to a searing head pain and lights that were much too bright for the human eyes. He heard rushing feet and then loud voices that followed soon after whoever entered the room saw him move to cover his eyes. 

 

   “Detective! Detective? Are you alright? What happened? Did The Block escape?” 

 

   God, he fucking hated questioning like that. He might be one of the only officers who didn’t bombard suspects when he spoke to them, but rather approach them with a developed plan from which he would get the most information out of the guilt filled felon. 

 

   Yukwon sat up and growled at the other detectives and police officers who stood around the couch he laid on, “I’m fine,” He told them all with a sharp exhale, “Where’s Jihoon?” 

 

   “He’s currently in the hospital, sir! Detective Pyo was shot in the leg and arm, sir! He suffered various severe abrasions and a broken leg, sir!” An officer shouted.

 

   The brunette cringed and tossed his coat at the officer who yelled, “Thanks for the information, you fucking bullhorn. What time is it?” Yukwon hissed. 

 

   “0200, sir.” 

 

   “I’m going home. Let Jihoon know I’ll go see him tomorrow afternoon.” the detective ordered as he slung his coat over his shoulder and walked out of the police station. 

***

 

   The car was in motion after a while and Minhyuk had finally come down from the high he’d endured from the liquid drug known widely as B. The butterfly feeling in the bit of his stomach and the tightness in his pants had both calmed down in the matter of time it took for the drug to wear off. The only current issues were: One: He wanted more. Two: He had no idea where they were going because it looks like someone had blindfolded him. Lovely. 

 

   “Ex-” He couldn’t even continue his sentence.

 

   “Oh! Our baby boy is awake!” Jiho yelled causing Minhyuk to flinch and try to tuck in to himself, but he had his hands tied and bound to the safety handle above him. 

 

   Minhyuk shook his head to protest the nickname Jiho had given him, but a sharp slap to his thigh stilled his body as quick as it made contact. A tingling sensation traveled up his thigh and then through the rest of his body, of course that’s when he realized that not all of the effects of the drug had worn off. That previous sensation stuck to him, making him squirm and shake, “Where are… we going?” He’d ask with a tremble in his voice. 

 

   He could hear Jiho and Kyung snicker and then he felt a strong, but small hand grip his thigh. There was another sensation that traveled through Minhyuk and that one made him groan in such a way that the car went silent. 

 

   “Oh, so baby Minhyukkie is a noise maker~” He heard Jihoo coo. 

 

   “You can’t just tell just from a groan you fucking slut,” Jaehyo snapped, “It’s how his body moves and how hard he tries to keep quiet that’ll really tell you whether or not he makes the noise you crave.”  

 

   Minhyuk heard Jiho snicker at the insult as he ran his soft hand over the detective’s thigh, “Well, we’ll just have to find out how much of a noise maker he is or the place we’re going will be a bust and you won’t get want you want, Hyo.” 

 

   A groan could be heard exiting from Jaehyo’s throat and the the nose of shifting in his seat so he no longer faced the tied up detective but rather the windshield. 

 

   “Taeil,” Jiho called, “How long until we reach Dragon’s?” 

 

   Taeil—the man who was driving that sleek, black car—pulled to a stop and looked back at Jiho with a bored frown playing on his lips, “Now.” 

 

   There were loud rustling sounds, opening and closing door sounds, and the opening of the back gate of the escalade. Kyung shuffled and untied Minhyuk, “Come this way pretty boy.” He cooed. 

 

   The captive detective had given up on momentarily fighting back and shuffled out of the car until his feet were not-so-firmly planted on the ground and Jiho had a grip on the tight straps that bound his hands together. He was tugged forward and almost face planted on the cement below him if not for Jaehyo opening his car door perfectly on time and holding Minhyuk up. 

 

   “We can’t give you to Jiyong all scratched up, bitch. Don’t be so damn clumsy.” Jaehyo hissed as he turned the blindfolded male toward the entrance of a building.  

 

   Through the black cloth over his eyes, Minhyuk could almost see the bright, florescent lights over the entrance of wherever these heathens may have taken him. A slight thrill climbed up his spine and the male cursed himself for feeling any form of excitement in this moment. It was just the whole kidnapping ordeal; the being tied up and drugged that led his heart to race and his head to feel with all kinds of scenarios, solutions, and problems. If Yukwon and Jihoon didn’t get here soon, he would begin to enjoy this a little too much. 

 

   He was pushed through the doors of the unidentified building and a sound of chattering filled his ears. Clinking glasses and hearty laughs along side other chatter; Minhyuk thought they were in another club that might just be nicer than the one he was just whisked away from. 

 

   “Hey, slut!” Jiho called.

 

   Minhyuk almost turned his head until a shaky, “Yes Master?” answered Jiho’s call. 

 

   The gang leader’s voice got deep and mean, “Where the fuck is your owner?”

 

   “M-Master Jiyong is in the big room, sir.” The mystery person answered, “Would you like me to show you where that is?”

 

   Minhyuk shivered and then heard someone fall to the floor, “Go back to whatever dick you had up your ass.” Jaehyo hissed while kicking at the fallen person, “Go.” 

 

   The person scampered off with a whine and Kyung’s laughter could be heard: a deep chuckle filled with malicious intent. It was like he was laughing at some sort of inside joke and the thought pissed Minhyuk off.  

 

   “Move, Detective.” Jaehyo ordered, pulling on the sleeve of the shirt Minhyuk was wearing, “If you don’t hurry your clumsy ass up, you’re going to end up just like the useless little whore I shoved to the side just now. You don’t want that do you? Not before the shit you’re about to endure.” 

 

   Jiho laughed again while they walked, “Now, what do you prefer to be called? Baby boy? Prince? Whore? Slut?”

 

   “Can you shut the fuck up?” Minhyuk groaned. 

 

   He was suddenly yanked to a stop by a strong hand gripping his bicep with a monstrous ferocity that caused the thrill factor to expand quite generously. Excruciating pain entered Minhyuk’s system as whoever had their hand on him pushed him to the ground and kicked him. The detective held his mouth shut by biting his lip as to keep from showing signs of weakness and prevent easy breakage, but a quick blow to his stomach let loose a cry that rang in his own ears. 

 

    “You want to order me around again, brat? Huh? Huh!?” Jiho roared as he delivered more punches to Minhyuk’s abdomen, “You want to talk to me like that? Fucking piece of shit. I can’t wait until one of Jiyong’s clients rips you apart.” 

 

   “Woo Jiho!”    
  
   The punching stopped much to Minhyuk’s delight and Jiho got off of him. The air was still, but the noise of chatter and clattering still lingered in the background. Whoever had called for the gang leader got no only his, but Kyung and Jaehyo’s attention. 

 

   “I asked for him to come here clean and dressed nice, but you’ve gone and beat him up you stupid shithead.” The person snapped, cursing at Jiho angrily as he nudged Minhyuk with his foot, “Is he even alive?”

 

   Minhyuk returned the nudge with a groan and very slight motion and Kyung’s dark laughter filled the empty space. “Come on, Jiyong,” the curly haired male hummed, “He’s not even that beat up and the bruises look so pretty on skin like his.” 

 

   Kyung bent down and pressed his hand on the forming bruises, applying more and more pressure until Minhyuk was writhing underneath his hand from the pain. A spectacle was nearly made out of it as the gang member continued to push down and push harder; a twisted grin was spread out on his face and all of his thoughts were latched to the perfection of the detective’s reactions. The only thing missing was a pretty red pool of blood…

 

   “Park Kyung, enough.” Jiyong demanded, “My clients don’t pay for an already bruised asset.” 

 

   Kwon Jiyong was a rich enough man thanks to the business he (illegally) ran. If he could, the man would cover himself up to the neck with the jewels and gold he had gotten from it all. Rich old guys pay thousands of dollars to screw or watch a man strip down and dance for him and all of that money went straight to the owner’s satin-lined pockets. 

 

   His money not only went to his own personal gain, but to The Block’s manufacturing of their vile liquid drug. You can’t get many people to work in the conditions that the drug required for free unless they’re sick people and you can pay them in drugs, but only a handful of people would willing take that as allowance (there were too many “righteous” people who worked in that department).

 

   “Pick him up, Jiho.” Jiyong demanded and the faux blonde male did as he was asked though it was rather rough. 

 

   Minhyuk groaned and licked his lips. Jiyong chuckled a little bit and and held the detective’s chin with his thumb and index finger, “You poor baby. Jiho beat you up and blindfolded you too? How can you go without being able to see everything.. It must be so scary.” He mocked.

   Another few moments of silence hissed about the group of them as they waited for Minhyuk’s answer. The detective didn’t want to get beat up again, but he also didn’t want to end up taking some stranger up his ass. 

 

   “I couldn’t care less about the situation right now because criminals like the lot of you are easy to bust.” 

 

   Jiho’s grip on his arm tightened painfully and a low growl rose out of his throat, “You better what your damn mouth, detective. The first dick up your ass might be mine and it won’t be as nice as the other ones here. I’m a man who values consent, so how about you shut your yap and just nod or whine.”

 

   A bitter taste flooded Minhyuk’s mouth, filling him with words to speak: “If you’re a “man of consent” as you say, then how is it that you saw it fit to drug me and kidnap me? Hm? That’s not very consensual.” 

 

   “You piece of shit.” The leader growled.

 

   Jiho would’ve jumped on Minhyuk without a second to lose if Jiyong hadn’t flashed a knife at the blonde along with a glare that would’ve frightened even the toughest opponents. The detective heard the slightest sounds of the man this drug dealer respected coming toward him and suddenly the blindfold was cut away from his face. 

 

   The lights of the club nearly blinded the man and after a while he could finally see the intricately detailed room before him. From the silver poles on the black catwalk bar and large stage to the back rooms labeled “EMPLOYEES ONLY” where men who definitely weren’t employees entered with an immodest escort.

 

   “Where the hell am I?” Minhyuk asked.

 

   Jiyong’s chest puffed out and his entire body filled with pride, “Welcome to your new home until your ransom is paid! Of course, you might become much too adapt to your “temporary” lifestyle to leave.” 

 

   Now that Minhyuk got to look at him in all the blinding light and red velvet glory of the room they were in, he noticed Jiyong’s soft features: his light faux blond hair that was gelled back and spiky, small eyes that carried a mischievous shine, and a build that carried all of the pride in the world. His looks gave the captive male a false sense of awe so to speak. 

 

   “Wait a minute. You’re Kwon Jiyong! You’re that human trafficking perp we’ve been trying to catch for years!” MInhyuk yelled, thrashing his arm out of Jiho’s slightly loosening grip, “You’re also the fucking murderer who slit the throats of nine women! What the fuck are you doing he-”   
  
   Pain seared through Minhyuk’s arm and he bit his lip to keep from crying out from the sudden feeling. Turning his head slowly, he noticed the gash on his shoulder staining his, now dirty, shirt with a iron-smelling red liquid. Upon looking more toward the group he noticed the curly haired man holding a small silver dagger in his hand with what looked to be the detective’s blood slowly sliding down the blade. 

 

   Kyung pulled the blood covered weapon toward his lips, sticking his tongue out and flattening it against the blade. He slid the silver blade across his pink tongue and, despite cutting his tongue, licked the blood right off the blade. If anyone looked or touched his tongue they would see the slight cuts from multiple moments of licking his blades. 

 

   “Wh-why’d you do that…?” Minhyuk whimpered. 

 

   Kyung smiled and the slightest hint of blood red coated his lips, “You were acting up. Bad boys get slit. The more you act up, the more Void get’s to slice you to tiny bits and pieces.” 

 

“Kyung, go wash him off.” Jiyong ordered and to which his request was answered gleefully, “Now, Jiho. Bring yourself and Jaehyo to the back room so we can discuss some...terms.”

 

***

   It was 3AM and Yukwon really didn’t want to go home just so he could sleep for two minutes and get up again to start writing reports about the missing detective. He really just wanted a drink and maybe some chicken to eat right now, but the only visible place in his line of sight was this joint with a big fluorescent sign that read: DRAGON’S DRINKS, FOOD, AND LOVE. He ignored the love part and waltzed right in, taking a seat on the nearest stool.

 

   The blaring music didn’t bother him and the lights inside the main room were soft compared to the ugly sign above the outside door. The gold accents in contrast to all of the red velvet walls and flooring were actually pretty elegant, but he wasn’t here to judge interior design. 

 

   He sat down at the granite bar—glittering with pieces of faux gold—sitting more on the sides of the bar so he wasn’t close to the sleek, gold poles protruding elegantly from the counter’s base as the soft lights from above slithered around them. Dark eyes peeked around the corners of the walls cutting off the view of anything aside from the presented drinks on the shelves before him and then over his shoulder, “Where the hell is the bar tender?” 

 

   “I’ve previously preferred the term barista, but this isn’t a cafe anymore.” a woman’s voice caressed his ears as her hand slid over his shoulder and down his chest.

 

   Yukwon turned his head to stare at this blonde, American woman dead in her sea green eyes. The way her lips turned down made the detective shift in his seat uncomfortably and the talons that were supposed to be her nails felt like a knife being held to his chest. Nothing about this situation was comforting or arousing to him, so he lightly shoved her off. 

 

   “Oh, this must’ve been a gorgeous cafe.” The dark haired man grunted.

 

   The woman—whom he could see was wearing white shorts, black fishnet tights, a red tube top, and white pump heels—was now behind the counter washing her hands. She scoffed, “Yeah, sure. It gets more business as a bar and a club than it did as the quaint little shop it once was.” 

 

   There was an uncomfortable silence despite the sound of music and Yukwon had his hands on the leather bound menu handed to him by the woman. 

 

   “What’ll you be having, sir?” She asked, her tone rather annoyed from the rejection she’d received. 

 

   “An Old Fashioned, please,” He hummed, setting the menu down, “That’s about it.”

 

   The woman nodded and got to work on making the drinks that were asked of her; tossing things around, pulling out a glass among other things. She poured the drink and decorated the cup with a lemon slice and a couple cherries before placing it on the counter in front of the detective. 

 

   After a couple of drinks, Yukwon—being a lightweight—was already out for the count. Thank goodness he’d walked here rather than taken his car, because this man was already insisting he didn’t need a taxi and could walk home by himself. He was all over some of the “innocent” bystanders attending the club, but he made them laugh so they didn’t do much to stop him.

 

   “Ahh… shit. It’s like.. 4AM I been here too, too long. I go’stah...walk home.” Yukwon slurred, swaying back and forth as he tried to make it toward the door. 

 

   A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him sending him falling toward the ground to land flat on his back. The perpetrator didn’t get away unscathed; however, the dark-haired detective’s hand connected straight to the other male’s cheek with such force that he fell as well.

 

   The thud his body created was drowned out by the music, and the detective clearly heard the male who laid beneath him growl angrily. The dark haired male looked down at the curls of red hair bouncing on the other’s head while trying to blink the hazy feelings of drunkenness away.

 

   “Huh, sorry?” Yukwon asked with slurred words, “I was jus’ goin’ home.” 

 

   The man above him helped him up and chuckled darkly (not that the detective could tell), “Don’t you worry about a thing! Though, you really shouldn’t go home alone this late at night especially when you’re drunk, love. Let me walk you home.” 

 

   Yukwon didn’t really do much to argue or fight back, he didn’t really want to be alone anyway. The man, whom he still had yet to identify, hugged him close and helped the detective move toward the door.

 

   It wasn’t much of a walk from the nightclub to the detective’s house, but in the hour it took to get there Kyung had learned a little more about Yukwon than he might’ve needed to; however, he could use the information he now had to get The Block’s message to the police station.

 

   “Which apartment is yours, detective?” He asked quietly while the dizzy male he was holding on to looked up at the top floor. 

 

   "The… condo.”

 

   With the roll of his eyes, Kyung dragged the stumbling drunk into the complex and toward the elevator that took them up to Yukwon’s grand condo.  Being in that small contraption with the intoxicated male seemed to be more of a game for the gang member than it was a kindness he was delivering. 

 

   “Say, detective?” 

 

   Yukwon looked up with hazy eyes and a grunt, “Yeah?” 

 

   “What were you doing at a bar at 3AM? Don’t you have some big case to work on?” 

 

   The detective slumped against the elevator wall and gave Kyung the up-down, “How’d ya know?...” He asked lazily, slowly slipping his hand to the holster on his thigh that was covered by the long coat he wore.

 

   The redheaded male examined all of the other’s actions cautiously, “Oh. Just news reports and stuff.”

 

   “We haven’ released anything to the press.” The now gun-wielding Yukwon growled. 

 

   A shot resounded in the elevator, and Kyung was on the ground clutching his shoulder in a fit of pain. If he wanted to, he could whip  _ Alex  _ out right now and slice the hell out of the man who had just wounded him, but his better judgement led him against the decision. He’d rather die in a gunfight than by whatever bullshit Jaehyo would end him with.

 

   A hiss slipped out of his mouth as he stood up, “Now, detective… put the gun down. You’re drunk, you stupid fuck. Is it an everyday game to get drunk and shoot the “innocent”?” 

 

   The word innocent bothered Kyung slightly, slipping down his throat like burning gasoline all because he knew the innocence he so casually feigned was nothing next to the crimes he committed. He liked having others know of his criminal behavior and the feeling of tricking the law enforcement was way too fun to give up for some boring everyday shit. 

 

   “Damn, ‘m sorry.” Yukwon apologized with that drunken slur of his.

 

   An exasperated sigh slipped past his lips, and he pushed his hair out of his face as the elevator signaled the approach to the condo’s floor. Kyung dragged himself and Yukwon off while the detective laughed and said something about blood and how his apartment was the one straight ahead. 

 

   “Where’s the key?” Kyung asked with a low growl.

 

   “Oh, I think I lef’ it at the… office?” 

 

   Park Kyung rolled his eyes and dropped Yukwon on the ground, yanking the gun out of its holster yet again, blowing the door’s lock out with a couple quick pulls of the trigger. He dragged the limp male into the rather large condo and threw him on the couch. 

 

   “Now, pretty detective, let’s see what you’ve got around here. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna wake up in a lot of pain after what you just did to me, and I was gonna let you off easy.” Kyung growled. He set the gun on the table after emptying the contents of the weapon’s magazine and chamber into the pocket of his jacket for “future usage”. 

 

   He searched Yukwon’s apartment thoroughly and his findings included a little bag full of white powder marked as “EVIDENCE”, an X-acto knife, and a thin nail. It was more than what he needed for the plan he had, and Kyung was pretty sure Jiho would award him for the creativity of this situation. 

 

_ Jack, be nimble, Jack, be quick _

_ Jill's a little whore and her alibis are dirty tricks _

 

   Just thirty minutes and the groans of pleasure ringing sweetly through the large condo swelled in Kyung’s ears. Every cry and sing-song moan brought him closer and closer to puncturing the detective’s skin a little too hard. In this case, perfect handwriting was more than hard to achieve, but he made it work. 

 

   The iron smell of the male’s blood had Kyung licking his lips and salivating like a dog. His hands and the tools he used were covered in the pretty red fluid. He licked it off of his fingers and equipment almost as if he were a child who had messily eaten a slice of cake. This was his element and god did he fucking love it. 

 

   “Fuck,” He snarled, “I’m going to lose my damn mind, detective.” Kyung chuckled as he carved another pretty letter into Yukwon’s back.

 

   A sudden thought crossed the male’s mind as he looked at his finished letter on the detective’s skin, “Let’s hope you don’t die by the time you and your stupid ass friends see this, yeah?” 

 

   Kyung got off of the blood covered detective and wiped his forehead—which was blanketed with sweat and blood—with the arm he’d removed a bullet from and patched up moments before writing his note. He found it necessary to leave a signature like he had on his previous victims, so he picked up the limp wrist belonging to Yukwon and, with the X-acto knife, carved a fancy little K that leaked blood upon impact.

 

   “That’s real pretty,” He cooed, “It’s practically artwork! I’ll cut it off of your corpse when you die and hang it up. Bye bye, detective.” Kyung chuckled as he left the apartment with the bullets jingling in his pocket. 

 

   He stepped outside into the air that smelled less of iron than he preferred, but it was good to breathe once in awhile—especially after carving a ransom note into the skin of a detective. That could really do a number on someone’s mental health, but for Park Kyung that was an easy task. He’d killed many before and because of that the reality and panic that came to a “beginner” escaped him; now he’s a pro. A murderer no one has ever caught on to, but that got boring after awhile. Kyung wanted to be hunted. 

 

   A dark laugh escaped him, the tendrils of sleep and the darkness coiled about him and his red locks like a poisonous smoke; it consumed his mind and soul so easily. Everything about that deep, dark insanity was more comforting than the warmest hug to a person opposite of him. 

 

   “Enjoy my gift, detective.” He whispered, stopping dead in his tracks in front of the doors to the city’s hospital, “Wake up soon~” 


	2. Why Worry?

_The sinking feeling sets_

_It feels just like a hole inside your chest_

_I know you’re thinking_

_No, no, no, no it is easier said than done_

_But please let me attest._

_I know it’s hard._

 

Yukwon woke up a few hours later, head buzzing and an intense sluggish feeling hitting him dead on. He got off of his couch, which he knew was a mistake to sleep on, and slowly made his way to the bathroom to prepare himself for another day of work regardless of how hungover he was. There was slight pain radiating from his body that honestly turned out to be anything but “slight”.

 

“What the fuck?” He growled with a slur still latching onto his tongue.

 

He saw the scarring and dried blood on his back; the pain it came with was superseding the pounding in his skull. He turned his neck awkwardly to look at the injuries and noticed the letters in intricate handwriting that twisted about on his bare skin.   

 

“ _I like playing this game. I’m really glad Jaehyo and Jiho wanted to do something fun. Here’s the catch: if we don’t get what we want by Friday, your cute little friend gets introduced to the real trade. Your first clue is cocaine. Good luck! <3” _

 

How his attacker had managed to carve all of that so delicately, Yukwon had no idea. His only information currently was that someone from the Block had done this to him, but it took him a few burdening seconds to notice the little K carved on his hand.

 

Park Kyung

 

Now there was no time, he had to get back to the station as soon as he possibly could. The shower and breakfast could wait. He slipped on a sweatshirt and some shorts, practically bolting out of his home. He hissed and held back a sob as the shirt rubbed against the scars on his back, biting into the wounds. The feeling of fire burning at his very core as he rounded a corner.  

 

He was running, picking up speed and losing his breath to the alcohol that still heavily riddled his system. Jihoon’s ringtone called loudly from Yukwon’s phone which the hungover detective regretfully answered while he ran, “Yeah, What’s it?”

 

“Oh, what’s going on? Is it really that windy outside?” Jihoon’s deep voiced called from other other end of the line.

 

“I’m runnin’ you fuck,” He snapped.

 

Jihoon laughed on the other end and heard a small, “Oh god, he’s drunk” before he yelled back into the phone, “There was action on the gang you fucking fuck!”

 

Jihoon’s laughter stopped slightly due to the news (the only thing that kept him chuckling was Yukwon’s slur), “What? Where?”

 

“Gather erryone in the office and I’ll show you… ‘s a ransom note.”

 

Yukwon hung up and turned a hard left onto another street that lead straight to the police station in which he barged into quite loudly before darting up the stairs.

 

Officers and detectives alike were toppling about the place to follow after the stumbling male who nearly broke the door to the interrogation room where Jihoon had gathered everyone. Upon his entry, Jihoon forced him to sit which in turn made him yell out in pain and startle Jiseok—another detective on their case who was mainly there as a psychiatric assistant for criminal interrogation—right out of his seat.

 

This particular case hit close to home for Jiseok, seeing as the gang leader was none other than his drug addict of a baby brother.

 

“Are you okay? Where’s the ransom note, Kwon?” Jihoon asked tenderly as he pat the other’s head in apology.

 

Yukwon looked his fellow detectives up and down before standing up, slightly off-balance, and removing the sweatshirt that messily clung to his frame and turned so his back faced the rest of the room’s occupants.

 

“That's…” Jiseok started, “That's fucking sick. Who the hell did that-”

 

“Park Kyung,” Yukwon answered with a heavy tone, “I found my door blown out too.”

 

“He broke in with a gun? How the hell did he find out where you live?” Jihoon asked as he continued to pet Yukwon’s head.

 

“I think I let ‘im in, Jiji…”

 

Jihoon cringed just a little bit at the old nickname, but continued to comfort his friend, “You were drunk, Yukwon. Did he do anything else to you?”

 

Yukwon rubbed his eyes and licked his lips, “I dunno. My head hurts.”

 

“How much did you fucking drink?” Jiseok hissed.

 

“None of your goddamn business, that's how much.”

 

Jiseok grumbled something under his breath about how it was his job to make sure people weren’t ill and how Yukwon’s alcoholism is getting completely out of control, but the detective sinking into the chair couldn’t care any less.

 

“What the hell does cocaine mean?” Jihoon asked, running his fingers through his stark blonde hair.

 

“‘S a clue, dumbass.” Yukwon groaned.

 

His slur made him much less frightening than normal, causing the younger detective to puff his cheeks out and hold in his laughter, “Anyway,” He chuckled, “You smell like iron and alcohol. Let’s get you into a shower, yeah?”

 

He didn’t think twice about the question—which would’ve benefited him in the long run—and reached a hand toward Jihoon. The scene was quite comical really; having Yukwon depend so heavily on the much taller male was a real turn on the norm.

 

_You’re feeling like you’re trapped_

_And that’s how you react_

_When you cannot see the light_

_But try and see the light_

 

“You don’t try very hard, do you, baby boy?” Jiho cooed from the corner of a dim-lit room.

He licked his thick lips and looked at the detective across the room dressed in thin layered, short clothing. It made the dark haired man feel trapped, scared, or even resilient. Minhyuk knew better though; they were training him to be obedient. Don’t want Jiho to beat your ass to a pulp? Don’t fight back.

 

“I.. do,” Minhyuk whimpered.

 

Jiho raised an eyebrow and slid his hand over the one brown eye, so that bright blue could stare Minhyuk down and make him feel invaded. That eye made it feel like Jiho could see right through him, and he couldn’t handle the feeling of the snake in front of him knowing everything about him, so he covered his body.

 

“Don’t get like that, baby. Tell me about yourself, yeah?” Jiho cooed.

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

“You don’t have a choice.”

 

Minhyuk took a deep breath and looked Jiho dead in that bright blue eye, “I have my rights to a choice.”

Jiho growled darkly and stood up from the spot in which he sat, stomping over to Minhyuk and grabbing hold of the too-tight collar around his neck. There was so much fear in that room radiating solely from the captive detective and the predator before him could feel it.

 

“Remember what we said about talking back, Minhyukkie?”

 

“Yeah, fuck you…” Minhyuk cussed, biting his tongue soon after as Jiho rammed a fist into his bare side.

 

Minhyuk yelled and grabbed Jiho’s shoulder to keep himself from falling as another punch was delivered after the other, “I told you to tell. Me. About. Yourself.”

 

“I don’t… Want to, so.. Fuck y-”

 

“Jiho~”

 

Jiho stopped beating Minhyuk to turn his head to the open door opposite of their position to see Kyung standing in the doorway. The smell of iron infiltrated the room, making the gang leader grin ever so slightly. He threw the thinner detective down and just about bounded over to the curly red head at the door.

 

“Baby! Did Detective Kim like it?” He asked, rubbing some of the dry blood off of his boyfriend’s face.

 

“You wouldn’t believe the noises he made, Jiho. It was absolutely erotic.” Kyung replied with a dark chuckle.

 

Minhyuk pushed himself toward a wall to prop against it and listened in on the conversation. He had tears welling in his eyes in no more than a couple seconds as Kyung talked about how he’d torn Yukwon apart and “stained the pretty couch with a more elegant red”. He couldn’t handle the news very well and let out a small sob which attracted attention.

 

“Aw, what’s wrong Minhyukkie? It’s not like that whore is dead or anything.” Kyung teased, stepping closer to Minhyuk so the heavy metallic smell surrounded the two of them.

 

He couldn’t say any words; his breath hitched and he held the sobs in, but the tears continued to flow. Minhyuk didn’t know if he should believe the man soaked in Yukwon’s blood or his own instinct.

 

“Oh my fucking god, do you want proof? There’s video. I stole it from the security office before visiting your little friend in the hospital!~” Kyung told him with a laugh.

 

“You’re fucking lying,” Minhyuk sobbed, “You’re a liar, you killed him.”

 

Jiho rolled his eyes and snatched a CD from Kyung’s hand as soon as the redhead held it out to him. He put it into the disc player the room contained and shut the door. “Watch and weep, slut.” the blonde hissed.

 

The footage rolled and began with a silent room soon interrupted with a loud gunshot. He saw Kyung drag a drunk Yukwon into the condo and set him on the couch before leaving him unattended to search the apartment. Minhyuk could only focus on Yukwon whimpering on the couch, head turning around to look for something or someone.

 

Another few minutes passed and Minhyuk’s legs were shaking. He knew the present situation was a terrible one to be in, but hearing his partner moan through the room’s speakers and seeing how he writhed beneath Kyung’s fingers working on the “ransom note” made his stomach churn. His cheeks burned red and sweat slipped down his face as he heard the curly haired male talk in a dirty tongue to the man beneath him as he carved those words into Yukwon’s flesh.

 

Minhyuk felt gross watching that display, everything about it was so wrong and vulgarly on display that he couldn’t help but feel terrible for the way it stoked an angry fire. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to think about anything else but the sounds of Yukwon’s voice and Kyung’s constant chuckling.

 

“Please,” He whimpered, “I believe you. Please turn it off.”

 

The sound stopped and Minhyuk kept his eyes shut tight while pulling himself into a ball to tuck away his shame. Nothing could be as terrible as this moment was.

 

Jiho said something to Kyung that Minhyuk couldn’t understand; a low growl with a bad idea is what he assumed it was. He didn’t want anyone to touch him, he didn’t want to touch anyone… He wanted to see his friends again. He wanted to drink with them and make stupid jokes. It’s only been a couple of days and he’s already yearning for freedom.

 

“Awe,” Kyung taunted, “Did it scare you? Are you a scared little baby-”

 

“Will you just shut the fuck up?” Minhyuk begged.

 

Had it really come to the point where he was begging? He swore up and down that he was better than that, but it seems he really is so useless that begging was his only excuse. It’s all just the same thing over and over for him, isn’t it? Begging. He begged his mom to stay, he begged his dad not to die, he begged for the man he loved to believe him, and he begged for that same man to stay with him until they both died. Why did it have to be like that? Why him?

 

Jiho heard the pleading in Minhyuk’s tone and cracked a grin, they were breaking the detective down just like he had said they would. They were going to crush him and use him, just like they planned.

 

It was silly, really, that the only way they could do all of this was because of their “inside source”; someone who had known Minhyuk for quite a while; someone who had crushed the life out of this boy before and completely ran his one good thing off track.

 

“Maybe you wanna see him, huh?” Kyung asked.

 

Minhyuk looked up from his little ball of guilt and blinked the salty tears out of his eyes. He gave the two men a curt nod, wide eyes speeding about for any hint of an emotion on either of their faces aside from the twisted grins. His speed to agree with the question amused the killer before him who helped him stand up.

 

“Kyung, what the hell are you doing?” Jiho asked the curly haired man.

 

“Giving the baby boy a small,” He took a breath as he chewed on words to finish his sentence, “break.” Kyung finished, looking Jiho dead in the eyes.

 

The gang’s leader contemplated for what seemed like hours to Minhyuk before he came up with his answer: “I’ll allow it as long as Taeil escorts him.”

 

“What? Why not me?”

 

“You already got to play with one detective, honey. It’s Taeil’s turn.” Jiho told his lover, eyes looking up and down hungrily, “Why not go let Taeil know and meet me back here after we get Minhyukkie to see Kwonnie?”

 

Kyung balanced Jiho’s words before nodding, “I’ll go tell him!~” He’d chuckle before turning to exit the room.

 

***

 

Taeil was sitting in the back of their large car, trunk open to protect him from the midday rain that poured down heavily. He was humming to the song blasting in his ears; the notes kept him at peace and distracted him from the deeds he was doing. Words threatened to escape his mouth instead of containing themselves to the small notes that slid from his throat, it was peaceful.

 

“Taeil!” Kyung screamed, ripping the ear buds out of the smaller man’s ears and cackling when the man fell out of the vehicle with a cry.

 

“Park Kyung!” Taeil yelled, “How the hell did you- oh my god.”

 

Tightening the handkerchief around his head, Taeil gazed at the drying blood on Kyung’s clothing and skin. Eyes scanning how it mainly stained his hands as well as the swipes on his cheeks from where it was presumed to wipe away sweat.

 

_My god, it’s worse._

 

“Are you looking at the blood?” Kyung asked, head tilted in a child-ish manner, “Don’t worry, no one is dead yet.”

 

A breath of relief exited Taeil’s mouth as he ran his hand through his now wet, dark red hair, “What do you need, Kyung?”

 

“Oh! You’re gonna take Minhyukkie to JaeJae’s bar,” the curly haired man said, his voice bouncing happily.

 

“Why am I taking him there? We aren’t robbing Jaehyo’s place, right? Jiho isn’t that dumb…”

 

Taeil was looking at his feet, standing underneath the open trunk once again, trying to think of any possible reason Jiho would want to go and cause a scene there. When he looked up, however, all of his thoughts dropped beneath him and he’d understood just from the look of pleasure in Kyung’s eyes that this wasn’t a plan to cause any type of charade.

 

“A certain Detective Yukwon is gonna be there and Jiho needs a little more obedience from pretty boy inside.” He said with a smile.

 

Wide eyes met Kyung’s description rather than a laugh or nod of agreement, “What do you mean?”

 

“We have a _plan._ I need you to be ready to go by nine, okay? That’s four hours. Think you can manage?”

 

Taeil mustered a nod as he stood frozen in position while his eyes locked on the blood caked Park Kyung who hopped out of the car. The redhead said something to him, but the words were drowned out with questions from his own mind.

_What are we going to do to him?_

 

_Why am I doing it?_

 

_Why can’t we just leave him alone?..._

 

It was around eight-thirty when Taeil and Minhyuk were ready; the detective looked so happy to be in clothing that didn’t show off his lean frame, though they still draped over him loosely. The smaller male refused to meet his eyes because he knew that the hope he could feel radiating off of the other was maximized in his eyes.

 

Taeil’s held too much guilt.

 

_I’m tellin’ you_

_No, no, no, no_

_You’re the only one_

_Standing in your way_

_Just take a breath, relax, and tell me...._

 

“Yukwon, you’ve been in the same spot for hours and it’s eight-thirty. We need to go home.” Jihoon grumbled sleepily.

 

“Have you had time to rest since you got out of the hospital?”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why do you always change the topic?” The younger hissed out, tapping a pen on the desk with a flare of annoyance.

 

Another lack of reply from the tired man lying down on the desk in front of him was cause to propose another type of distraction: “Want to go get a drink?”

 

Of course, Yukwon’s head shot up and he was ready to go in a matter of seconds; it was like watching a little kid get ready to go to a toy store. He was out of the door in a matter of seconds with Jihoon chasing after him (both on foot, because they knew neither of them would call a taxi while drunk).

 

They were at this little club on the corner of a street that was a couple blocks away from the station. The lights cast a dark purple glow on the quiet streets of the city, making it feel slightly inviting to Yukwon rather than Jihoon. The lights spelled out “J-Light” and neither of them could really piece together why it would be called that, but it didn’t matter; what did matter was the need to be engulfed by the boisterous music inside.

 

Jihoon grabbed his friend’s shoulder before the smaller man had even set foot inside, “Don’t over do it, man.”

 

“I can hold my liquor, Jihoon. I’m fine.” Yukwon would protest, but Jihoon knew better and rolled his eyes.

 

The pair pranced right into the club, letting the music and smell of sweat and alcohol fill them up. It disgusted Jihoon a little, but Yukwon welcomed it like it was a close friend.

 

The darker haired detective smiled and led Jihoon to the bar, “You gotta try this one drink here, it’s really great. The name is super weird, but I-”

 

“Do you frequent this establishment, Yukwon?” Jihoon interrupted.

 

“What?” Yukwon chuckled, “Are you going to arrest me? It’s not like I drink on duty, Jiji.”

 

The blonde shuddered and shoved Yukwon jokingly, “I won’t if you don’t plan on driv- wait, you left your keys at home and I don’t have a car, so that joke wouldn’t work.” Jihoon hissed as his joke was ruined by the sudden observation.

 

“Yeah, yeah, anyway,” Yukwon approached the bar and ordered three of _The Special_ (one for Jihoon and two for himself), while his heart beat to the sound of the drums.

 

The time was now eight-thirty and Yukwon had already started to lose himself to the night club’s call; dancing and laughing as he moved about the club. The song, which he could’ve sworn was called Hobgoblin, forced his body to act on its own as he pressed against other people willingly. A set of familiar, comforting hands held on to him and allowed him to press into their grip; a strong grip that made every inch of him feel safe and yet buzzing with an electricity he’d forgotten how to feel.

“I missed you,” The man said, hot breath making the drunk detective shudder.

 

“Missed me?” He asked, rubbing against him.

 

“Yes. Who wouldn’t miss a gem like you, Kwonnie?” The man cooed once again.

 

Yukwon turned around, inhaling the mix of sweat, alcohol, and honey from the man who was now caressing him. The familiarity made him tremble as he ran his hands up the man’s chest; it was almost as if he’d memorized the pathways to move on concerning this particular man

 

“Wait,” There was a silence now, only in Yukwon’s head, “No. No. A-absolutely not.”

 

He felt the adrenaline in his body flow through him dangerously, lifting his head to stare Ahn Jaehyo dead in the eyes. The look in his eyes was fierce and fitting for the moment present between the two. Yukwon couldn’t identify if the feeling now was fear, lust, or anger; he hated everything about the man in front of him, but something kept him there (and it wasn’t the taller male’s hands for sure).

 

“Why not?” Jaehyo asked with a grin that resembled one belonging to the devil’s.

 

“I remember what you did, you piece of shit. I still haven’t forgiven your stupid ass.”  

 

“Relax, baby boy,” Jaehyo cooed, hand rubbing Yukwon’s cheek and smiling when the detective practically melted into his touch, “I’m different now. I’m here to apologize.”

 

“Apologize?”

 

Jaehyo’s thumb rubbed softly against Yukwon’s cheek as he gradually closed in the space that barely existed, pressing a sweet kiss into the smaller man’s lips and pulling away with a smile so kind that any bad past could be forgotten.

 

“I’m sorry you got hurt back then, Kwonniebun.”

 

“By you!” He snapped immediately.

 

“I’m sorry _I_ hurt you, Yukwon. I really want to make it up to you…” Jaehyo whispered as he pressed his body up against the other man’s, the smile on his face was clearly devilish.

 

Across the club’s dance floor was a very drunk Jihoon, swaying around and “dancing” (more like swinging his long limbs around while he was feeling the music in every inch of his body). People were grinding against him unnecessarily, but it didn’t really bother him while he danced along. Someone did ask him to come to the back room with them, but he couldn’t be bothered with the idea and turned them down.  

 

The time was now nine thirty and with a quick glance toward the door Jihoon could’ve sworn up and down that he saw the world’s smallest angel waltz right into the place looking nervous and afraid of touching any of the alcohol ridden people residing in the club.

 

He pushed his giant body through the crowd, eyes set dead on the tiny male he watched walk around. Jihoon crossed into the desired path almost immediately and startled the small, anxious person before him, “Hi, I’m… Jihoon.” He muttered.

 

The man adjusted the the hat on his head and pushed his glasses up with a nervous grin, “Uhm, I’m Taeil.”

 

Jihoon wiped his hands on his jeans and cleared his throat, “So, uhm, did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Because your face looks like it.”

 

There was an embarrassing silence blocking out the music from the little bubble Jihoon had created. His eyes shifted and he started tucking into himself after realizing he’d majorly fucked up that overused pick up line, but a smile stretched across Taeil’s face and the man erupted into melodic laughter. The taller man swore to god he heard the bells of heaven ringing as the laughter resounded, but then it abruptly stopped.

 

Taeil was suddenly closing the space between him and taking a sip from the drink in Jihoon’s hands. His eyes moved and gave the detective an up-down glance, “You can be the shark, and I’ll be your bait if you promise to eat me.”

Jihoon stared down at the small man who was shamelessly flirting with him and felt a red heat fall over him. A stupid little fish pun drew Jihoon straight to Taeil like a, dare I say, fish on a line.

The blonde grabbed Taeil’s shoulder with such a strong force, which didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. The glasses on the bridge of his nose slipped off, “Are you gonna grab me like that later, sir? Maybe a little rougher?”

 

Setting his drink on a class counter top to his right, Jihoon had Taeil’s shirt in his fist and a wild light gleaming in his eyes. The next action he took was pulling the smaller man to a rather pristine bathroom toward the back of the club, pushing him in the corner of the farthest stall, and staring dead into the eyes of the man who had just wooed him with a laugh and dumbass pick up line.

 

It all started with touching; hands caressing and rubbing soft skin, rough shoves against walls, and a whisper of a promise that Taeil was about to feel the best feeling in the world.

 

“Show me what you mean, Mr. Detective,” Taeil taunted, pushing against Jihoon’s chest.

 

An invitation.

 

Jihoon’s hand ghosted over Taeil’s skin again, removing the thin, black shirt that hid the man’s well toned features. Everything fell so quickly into place; the detective licked hot stripes up the other’s torso and made him squirm. Hot breathes and small groans blended into the muffled music booming through the walls of the hot, cramped bathroom as only slight teasing manifested into something heavier.

 

“Is that all you’ve got, Jihoonie? Huh?” Taeil whimpered, a strong grip pulling Jihoon’s head back by a tuft of bleach blonde hair, eliciting a deep growl from the larger male.

 

Jihoon pushed his weight into Taeil who then pulled on the lock of hair again; the larger male brought his face up and smashed his lips into the other’s. Wet kisses and groans continued to resound in each other’s ears which sent an ecstatic pleasure down both of their spines.

 

A deep growl harbored itself in the back of Jihoon’s throat as he slid down Taeil’s body and held the waistband of his jeans between his teeth. It was a rather cliché, but the moment held hot to the tension in both of their movements. The smaller grinned as he watched the other nearly rip his jeans off with nothing but his teeth and soon became a mess of moans and cries while being teased by the man.

 

“Jihoonie, please… This isn’t fa-fair, Jihoonie.” Taeil whined as the detective continued to lick and touch his aching cock through the fabric that was yet to be removed.

 

It was a nearly painful feeling, choking on air as another man pulled his dick out of the restraining bonds of his underwear. The large hand holding Taeil’s cock hard and mercilessly pumping it and thumbing the slit to elicit loud moans that could nearly be heard over the bass in the club.

 

“Jihoonie…” He said with another light moan, his eyes fluttering as long eyelashes blocked the dim lights.

 

Time flashed by quicker than Taeil could register, but Jihoon was now shirtless with all features exposed and his mouth around the smaller man’s dick. He had it’s entirety in his mouth, barely reaching the back of his throat, and the older boy was a mess.

 

“Daddy, please-” Taeil cried.

 

Jihoon stopped, no motion and a lack of friction provided for Taeil as his mouth popped off of the other, “Call me daddy again.” He ordered.

 

The older man looked down at the other, cheeks red hot and body yearning for the pleasure that once was, “How about you make me, Mr. Detective?” Taeil hissed with a tease.

 

He didn’t need to be told twice; he the other around and wet his fingers generously with his own saliva. Jihoon pushed a finger into Taeil, laughing at how quickly he adjusted to the rather thick fingers of the detective before pushing in a couple more. He thrusted the digits in and out at a pace that set the “criminal’s” insides on fire.

 

“Fuck,” Taeil cursed, sweaty hands slipping off the wall as he moved in time with the rather quick pace set by the younger.

 

He was searching for friction, and boy was he getting what he was looking for.

 

This continued for a good few minutes before Jihoon growled lowly and told Taeil he believed he was prepared enough for what was going to happen next and in an instance (and split second without friction) Jihoon was ramming his cock heavily into the small frame of the other and the smaller man could only cry out and moan, no words would form unless they were: “Fuck me harder, daddy please!”

 

And so they continued, gripping each other desperately as if they were destined to be separated by the opposing forces at any moment in time. A sin was being committed by the two in the back of that bathroom, notably marked with moans, cries, and grunts as Jihoon pulled out and released heavily on the ass of the man who then crumpled due to the pleasure of his own climax.

 

The next couple of minutes were the drunken detective petting Taeil’s hair and cleaning the boy up with pieces of toilet paper, “Are ya hurt?” He’d ask with the soft growl of his and the smaller would shake his head, being too tired to form words.

 

_Why?_

_Please tell me why do we worry?_

_Why?_

_Why do we worry at all?_

_Why?_

_Just tell me why do we worry?_

_When worry is never helping tell me_

_Why?_

_Why worry at all?_

Kyung looped his arm through Minhyuk’s arm after the kidnapped detective had gotten dressed in normal clothing, thankful to be out of the “clothes” Jiyong provided for him. He was looking at himself in a mirror now—more so a large piece of broken glass in the alley behind the club—eyes observing the redhead standing next to him with a prideful smirk adorning his lips. It was almost cute, that smile, but the detective didn’t trust it and he was led to believe he never would.

 

“You look good, Minhuykkie!” He smiled, cuddling close to the man’s side, “It must be more comfortable being dressed like that, huh?”

 

Minhyuk choked back his disgust at the sweet tone of the shorter man and just barely let out a nod. He didn’t want to be near Kyung right now, so it was kind of lucky on his part that Jiho had told the man that he could only go with Taeil if he promised not to walk into the nightclub and return home immediately.

 

With a gulp and a slight escape plan in mind he pushed past the other, receiving the slightest whine from Kyung who figured it was time for him to go. Minhyuk pushed through the doors that glittered under the red exit sign above it and shut it with a quick desperacy.

 

He welcomed the pounding music and the yelling from inside, it made him think of Yukwon. Walking into the main room, embracing the smell of alcohol like a hug from the two men he missed so much, he laid his eyes upon the crowd and noted Jihoon pulling Taeil to the bathroom hungrily. He kept searching until he his gaze caught on the familiar jawline, that beloved face shape, that captivating gaze; he looked until he saw the man he poured into everyday, Kim Yukwon.

 

He went to approach him speedily, heart and mind racing about the place with thoughts of freedom. A large smile settled itself on Minhyuk’s face, igniting those deep dimples gifted to him by genetics, as he pushed through the crowd and raced to the bar that glowed a deep blue color. This was it, he could go home and be with him, he had finally been released out of some sort of corrupted kindness and-

 

Who was _touching_ him?

 

The once determined look on Minhyuk’s face now shifted into shock as his eyes fell upon Yukwon pressed into another man, cheeks pink and lips parted. The fingers caressing the detective’s soft cheeks touched him so lovingly, so carefully it was almost perfect; it was like they belonged there. In the midst of the sweat and alcohol scent, the florescent lights, he felt betrayal settle in his rocketing heart.

 

He noted how Yukwon’s brows furrowed and how tears pooled in his eyes and slid down his cheeks for the mystery man to wipe away. “You don’t need to cry, angel,” The man would coo, “I’m back and I’m going to take care of you, now.”

 

“I miss Minhyuk,” Yukwon sobbed, wrapping an arm around the man’s neck, “I miss Minhyuk…”

 

The man slid a hand to his neck, “You’re saying the wrong name, Kwonnie.”

 

Wet eyes looked up at the man who whispered the venomous nothings into the ears of the easy to deceive, drunk detective. Yukwon shuddered and sniffled as a kiss was pressed into his lips (though he looked like he would’ve preferred if the man wouldn’t kiss him).

 

“Jae,” Yukwon sniffled, “Jaehyo, I missed you… Minhyuk is gone, he ne’vr wanted me anyway.”

 

A smile crept onto Jaehyo’s face and he turned his head to look the heartbroken detective. His eyes reflected the lights twinkling in the club as Yukwon pressed his face into the man’s shoulder and sobbed heavily, shattering Minhyuk’s very being.

 

Being captured and held against your will was better than facing the fact that your drunk boyfriend believed you never loved him, Minhyuk thought. He knew Yukwon reminisced in the past quite often and always tended to believe the terrors it brought out: the “cheating”, the alcoholism, the constant self-hatred, and many more pained details paraded about the boy’s mind while he sobbed over a glass of Scotch.

 

“Kwonnie-” Minhyuk whimpered, legs weak and shaking now as he watched Jaehyo’s thin, long fingers dig into his partner’s hair in attempt to fake comfort for the drunk, sobbing mess of a detective gripping the leather jacket adorning his frame.

 

_He thought he had a chance to end this nightmare._

 

_He wants Yukwon to run to him_

 

_Run to him._

 

_Run._

 

In a moments notice, a rather fucked-looking Taeil had a tight grip on Minhyuk’s arm. The glare in the shorter male’s eyes was almost angry and apologetic at the same time, leading the thin male held in his grip to wonder whose side the other was really on.

 

Taeil tugged on Minhyuk, pulling him to ward the black car that waited for them out back, everything twisting and turning as he limped—a noticeable limp gifted to him by the rough pounding of Pyo Jihoon—toward the glowing, red exit sign. “Are you really not going to fight back?” He asked, voice heavy with post-orgasmic weight.

 

Minhyuk looked up, brown eyes dull and suddenly sleepless, “There’s nothing to fight for anymore.”

 

“Aren’t you a fucking detective? Isn’t it your job to, I don’t know, help people? Solve crimes? Bust major gangs like the one you’re willingly fucking dwelling in?” The shorter man snapped, shoving the other’s inhumanly frail body against the wall.

 

Life flashed before his eyes: college, Jaehyo, Yukwon, all of the clubs, all of the hospitals… the alcoholism. Tears poured out of him, from his soul more than his tear ducts, as he held on to anything he could grasp while he spiraled into the very darkness he tried to keep many people out of.

 

“Giving up is easy, Mr. Lee.” Taeil muttered, barely audible above the booming music and sound of blood rushing in Minhyuk’s ears.

 

“It’s _easy_?” The detective growled, “Easy! That’s some funny fucking bullshit, man! You don’t know shit!”

 

“And you think you know anything more than I do?”

 

With bones shaking and teeth grinding against one another Minhyuk snapped.

 

“Lee Taeil, age twenty-six. Beat by his father before abandoning home at the age of nineteen post the death of a mother figure: a prostitute that took care of him out of the damn kindness of her heart. She never told him her name, she just went by her alias for sixteen years of his life.”

 

Taeil’s eyes suddenly lost the apologetic look and kindled that angry glare that once accompanied it, “Stop.”

 

“Gongjunim,” Minhyuk spat, “Not much of a princess if you ask me. She was a drug addict prostitute who accepted his father’s beatings while he did nothing but cower in fear.”

 

_Stop._

 

“He didn’t even go to school! He fucking left home to join a motherfucking gang! God, that case-file was a fucking sob story! You could’ve had so much, if you had ju-”

 

A punch to the jaw shut Minhyuk up as quick as it sliced the air.

 

“You’re pathetic. I had hopes that you could actually bust the hell out of here! I want out. This isn’t my damn choice, I had no one else to turn to. You shut the fuck up about shit you don’t know, rich boy. You had money to afford schooling, you had a mother and a father who only laid hands on you in discipline and in love,” A deep, shaky inhale bounced off of the speaker’s sound waves, “Not everyone has what you have. Not everyone has a better way out, detective. You volunteered to protect and help people, but this is the mindset you have? Fuck the police.”

_Fuck you._


End file.
